The imposters

(or, how I have felt all my life, while the true, naked imposters are guilt-free and perceived as ‘well dressed’)

I have always believed that it’s a matter of time
before I’m exposed as an imposter
and proven guilty of that crime

“Your writing is substandard”,  they would say,
“your poetry, your stories, 
nor would you manage to write a simple essay.”

I would defend myself and have this already prepared, since I have questioned all my work,
their accusations would not leave me scared

“I’m a master of self-sabotage,
you must take that into account
and it might even leave you impressed
how I analyse everything to the ground.”

“I write in three languages”, I would proceed,
“or is it more proof that you need?”

When the sentencing would commence,
I would say the final words in my defence:
“The true imposters are the others hiding out there,
as the emperor’s new clothes and they don’t even care.”

I would hand in a simple essay
which I had analysed to the ground
They might even say it reads like a poem
and that my words are quite profound

It’s a matter of time before I am exposed
Until then, I must confess, I will write and nothing less.

(written in 2019. by Silvia R.F)

@theholisticpoet